


A Soccer Mom's Work is Never Done

by Pineprin137



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adopted Children, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Football | Soccer, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Sick Character, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 17:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137





	A Soccer Mom's Work is Never Done

Standing in the doorway, I watch the little red-headed girl comb out the mane of the stuffed lion sitting in her lap. Looks like we are going to have a couple of passengers with us today. A few months ago I would have balked at the idea of my truck getting swarmed by cutesy stuffed animals, but now it’s just another part of the routine. There is hardly a time that she doesn’t want to bring at least one of her ‘friends’ with us, even if it was only a quick jaunt to the store and back. 

Some days it is still hard for me to believe Cassie’s really ours. It wasn’t easy getting the adoption papers to go through thanks to my medical history, but she is here now. I glance down at my watch and sigh, I really hate to interrupt such a sweet moment, but we need to head out if we’re going to make it before the game starts. I take quick notice of the stuffed animals nearest our sweet little girl and walk into the room. 

I crouch down until I am eye level with her and she greets me with a big smile and a wet kiss. I gesture to the small table she’s sitting at. 

“Are Luna, Max, and Queen Emily ready to go?” She shakes her head and I struggle to keep the frown from my face. “Well, they better hurry so we can wish Daddy luck before the game.” 

Cassie sets the neatly groomed lion in one of the small chairs, making sure to smooth down his jacket and position his paw near the teacup in front of him before replying.

“Luna and Max aren’t going, but Queen Emily and I are ready.” She grabs the largest toy from the table and stands up. I should have known. The stuffed elephant Declan’s mother gave her is her favorite by far. Today, Queen Emily wears a dark purple dress with a tall sequined hat squeezed between her large floppy ears. Looking behind the toy, I’m relieved to see that Cassie's already dressed in a pair of dark purple jeans, a polka dot sweater, and a pair of sparkly white ballet flats. 

“Okay, girls. Let’s get going, then. Everything else is already in the truck.” Cassie takes my hand as we descend the wide staircase and head over to the front door. I help her put on her fleece jacket and grab my old college sweatshirt to throw over my soft, dark blue sweater. Cassie holds up Emily so I can slide a miniature white furry coat over the stuffed elephant's arms and then we rush out and across the driveway to where my grey pickup waits. 

I open the rear door with one hand while double-checking my pockets with the other. Phone, keys, pass, inhaler, and meds. Yup, all there. I buckle Cassie in and make sure both she and her elephantine friend are properly situated before climbing behind the wheel and turning the key. My favorite country station blares to life and a small whine comes from the backseat. Sighing, I switch to auxiliary and pull up ‘Cassie’s Playlist’ on my phone. Soon the cab is filled with the sounds of Pocahontas. The Disney classic is her favorite movie at the moment. I swear Declan and I have seen it about a hundred times in just the past week. 

Twenty minutes later, we pull into the stadium parking lot and head for the reserved section. I smile,  spotting a cherry red Mustang in the player’s section, then unbuckle Cassie and set her onto my hip so I can jog to the entrance. There’s a long line of fans waiting to get in, but we veer off towards the Employees Only door. I swipe my pass and we head inside. I help her down and she holds onto my hand as we walk towards the locker room. 

My daughter looks up at me while we stand across from the large red door, waiting. I pull out my phone and send Declan a text to let him know we’re outside. A few minutes later, the door opens and the large man with messy black hair and bright blue eyes that I married eight years ago exits the room. He smiles at me briefly before crouching down and opening his arms to catch our daughter when she rushes forward. Cassie giggles as Declan bounces her a few times and then they walk over so he can give me a kiss. “Hey, hon.” 

“How’s your knee doing?” My husband looks up from where he had been ‘nibbling’ at our daughter’s cheeks and rolls his eyes at me. 

“It’s fine, Erica. Doc said I was good to go.” 

“...I know. I’m sorry. I just--I can’t help but worry.” Gentle blue eyes meet worried brown as Declan rests a hand against my cheek. 

“I understand that, hon. But the doctor gave me the all clear, I took the meds this morning, and I’m not in any pain. I’m fine.” Not wanting to start a fight right before he heads onto the field, I bite my tongue and nod. 

A few weeks ago, he had gotten injured during practice. One of his teammates had called me right after it happened and I had subsequently shown up to find Declan laid out on a bench in the locker room with one knee covered by a bag of ice. The resulting trip to our doctor’s office the next day had confirmed the team doctor’s suspicion. My husband had torn a ligament when one of his teammates accidentally tripped him and he fell heavily with most of his weight coming down on his right knee. He had been laid up for a week, followed by another five weeks of only light physical activity. Today was his first time back on the field in six weeks. 

“Declan! We’re getting ready for the pre-game before we head out, get your ass in here!” I lean around my husband to glare at Tommy, the goalie. 

“Oh, sorry, Erica. Didn’t realize you and the munchkin were here.” The bald man blushes and hurries back inside. Declan shouts back. 

“Tell John I’ll be right there!” Then he ducks his head down and gives Cassie a kiss. 

“Daddy’s gotta go to work now, princess. I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” Our little girl nods and kisses his cheek before climbing back into my arms. Declan hesitates at the door, looking back at us for a moment, before disappearing into the chaos of the locker room.

“C’ mon, sweetheart. Let’s go find our seats.” 

 

* * *

Having a spouse on the team has its perks. Along with the reserved parking stalls, we also have designated seats in the ‘VIP’ section. It’s not particularly fancy, but it is located closer to the bathrooms, and it’s roped off. They also provide a little cooler with drinks and snacks, but we usually bring our own. I sit down and wait for Cassie to situate Queen Emily in a neighboring seat before crawling onto my lap. I grab the fleece blanket from our tote bag and lay it over us to keep out the chill. It may be sunny outside, but I can still see my breath on this crisp April morning. With our comfort sorted, next comes breakfast. I open the lined side pocket and pull out two foil-wrapped burritos, handing the smaller one to Cassie. She grabs it and immediately tries to bite into it without looking away from the field where the teams are now entering.

I chuckle when she curls her lip at the metallic taste and quickly fold the wrapper back for her so she can bite into the actual burrito. I set my own burrito to the side and set out her sippy cup of milk as well as my travel mug of light brown vanilla-flavored coffee. Thank god for coffee. I’ve never really been a morning person, but back when I started dating Declan in college the warm caffeinated beverage became a necessity. I started getting up early on Saturdays so I could watch him play. I didn’t know much back then, only that he was a member of the varsity team and his games were early on Saturday mornings. Now, almost ten years later and I’m still here, sitting in the cold stands with a mug full of coffee, watching the man I love kicking a ball around. The only difference, my company. Before it was a few brave girlfriends, but now it’s our energetic little girl and her stuffed elephant.

I’m not totally convinced that Cassie understands everything that’s going on while Declan is ‘at work’, but she does know which jersey to watch for. _ “Number nine is my Daddy!” _ she will say to anyone within earshot. Our daughter is definitely a daddy’s girl, much to my chagrin. Cassie loves to run around in the backyard with him while he practices, or cling to his back when he does sprints. He’s even taught our little girl how to kick the ball into the netted goal affixed to our back fence. I don’t think I will ever forget the moment Cassie made her first goal. I was inside washing our dishes from lunch but raced towards the back of the house when I heard her scream. When I made it to the backyard, heart racing, Declan was her around in a circle and congratulating her. The smile on my husband’s face mirrored by the one on our daughter’s.    

By the end of today’s first match, Cassie is no longer sitting on my lap and we’ve both finished our breakfast burritos as well as our special drinks. I always bring a ‘special’ drink along with our water bottles. If only because I need my coffee and it seems unfair to make her drink water while I moan over my warm cuppa joe. A few minutes before the mid-way break, I take Cassie’s hand and head toward the bathrooms. She tried to protest even as she wiggled and crossed her legs, but then I reminded her that if she didn’t go now, she would miss part of the second match when she had to go later. Luckily, there is no one in the ladies room and we’re in and out in plenty of time for her to watch for Daddy’s wave during the break. 

Sure enough, when we get back to our seats I can see a dark-haired man sitting on the bench. Declan’s head is down and his arms are hanging loosely between his thighs. I frown. Normally, he makes a point to look up and share a wave with Cassie, but today he’s keeping his gaze on the ground between his cleats. 

“Why isn’t Daddy waving?” I meet our daughter’s sad blue eyes and wish I knew what to tell her. 

“Aw, baby. C’mere.” Cassie curls up in my arms and I hold her close while keeping an eye on my husband. “I think Daddy’s just tired today.”

I watch as he tilts his head back and drinks from the sports bottle in his hand. I can’t help but lick my chapped lips at the sight of his tanned throat. It’s too far away to verify, but I know that there are probably rivulets of sweat traveling down to the collar of his jersey. For a moment my hormones take over and all I want to do is lick it off. Jesus...the things just watching him sit there do to me, even after eight years of marriage. 

The spell is broken when Cassie leans back to check on Queen Emily and then rests her head on my shoulder and wraps her arms around my neck. I smile down at her and then return my gaze to our favorite soccer player. I watch as Declan takes another swig of water but immediately sets the bottle down next to him. He scoots forward to the edge of the bench, hangs his head between his spread legs, and vomits. 

My eyes widen and I move forward in my seat while one of Declan’s teammates walks over to him. The other man places a hand on his sick teammate’s shoulder to support him as another splash of liquid hits the ground. Uh oh. Either Declan’s overdone it or he’s coming down with something. I think back on the past few days, but can’t remember anything suspicious. I suppose he could have put too much strain on his body, but that usually only happens during the summertime when he gets overheated and doesn’t drink enough. 

I gently stroke Cassie’s hair in an effort to keep her face tucked into my neck while I watch as my husband throws up yet again. This time his coach, John, glances over his shoulder to find out who’s sick and hurries over after tugging on the sleeve of a shorter man who I assume is the Team Doc. Even though Declan has spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks, I’ve never actually met the guy. 

At this point, Coach and the other man both crouch down near Declan and speak to him. Then the probably-Doc helps him stand and they head off the field towards the locker rooms. I hear a sudden gasp and look down to see Cassie is no longer buried in my neck. Dammit. She probably saw Declan get led off the field. 

“Okay, baby girl. I think it’s time to go.” I set her down so that I can gather up our things. “Grab Queen Emily, please.” She snatches the stuffed toy from its seat and latches onto my outstretched hand. 

“What’s wrong with Daddy?” 

I look down at her and shake my head. “I don’t know, baby.” We enter the long hallway and I hear a quiet sniffle. When I look over, I see Cassie’s tears and the way she’s clutching her toy.

“Aw, sweetheart. C’mere.” I pick my little girl up and settle her on my hip before continuing, “Daddy’ll be okay, Cassie. We’ll take him home and take care of him.” I tilt her chin up with my finger and use a thumb to wipe away her tears. 

“I’m gonna need your help, sweetheart. Are you going to help me make Daddy feel better?” Cassie gives me a tentative nod just as we arrive in front of the locker room door. 

I knock on the heavy door and wait. There’s a squeak of sneakers on concrete before the door opens. “I’m sorry this area isn’t open to the pub--” The man jerks back when I interrupt him. 

“I’m Declan’s wife, Erica. Is he okay? We saw him leave the field.” A tiny whimper causes the man’s attention to shift down to the little girl still held safely in my arms. 

“Is my-my Daddy okay?” Cassie manages to ask him through her slowing tears. Although he doesn’t speak, we both get our answer when we hear a loud retch come from further in the room. Sighing, I shoulder Mr. Sentinel out of the way, deposit our tote bag on a bench, and walk towards the adjoining bathroom. We find the source of the awful noise on his knees in the first stall.  

“Declan, honey?”

He coughs and raises his head from its position over the toilet bowl, then flushes and stands when he sees us standing there. He sways and coughs into his fist, oh yeah, that’s not worrying at all, then walks over to the row of sinks.

“Is Daddy sick?” Cassie asks in a worried voice as we follow after him. Declan rinses his mouth and washes his hands before finally addressing our presence in the locker room. 

“Marty actually let you in?” We follow him over to the bench where I hastily deposited the tote bag and sit down. My husband rests a hand on his stomach and sends me a pleading look when Cassie tugs on his jersey. I hold my arms out, offer her a smile. 

“C’mere, Cassie. Why don’t you sit on momma’s lap?” She shakes her head and glares. “Daddy’s not feeling good right now, baby. You can’t sit on his lap.” Cassie changes tactics and pouts instead. 

“You can either sit on my lap or sit on the bench, Cassie.” She pulls out the big guns, wobbling her lower lip and fluttering her eyelashes, but I don’t budge. She finally sighs and sits on the bench leaving a three-foot gap in between us. Kids.

Declan and I chuckle softly at our daughter’s antics until he suddenly freezes. Just as he pales and hurries back towards the bathroom, there is a loud commotion at the door. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake! This isn’t a reunion center!” Marty doesn’t sound too happy about the new visitor. 

“I’m his  _ sister _ and I’m  _ going in _ .” Thank goodness, sounds like reinforcements have arrived. 

“Look, lady. You can’t go in--Ow! Did you just hit me? No! You aren’t supposed to be back there!” The dark-haired woman walking up to us just rolls her eyes and ignores Marty’s rant. I’m starting to hope he isn’t actually the Team Doc. The guy is an ass. 

“Aunt Evie!” 

My sister-in-law smiles at me as she grants her niece a quick hug before sitting down. Cassie immediately crawls into her lap and clings to her. I throw my hands up in exasperation. That one is going to grow up to be a drama queen. 

“I saw Rooster get ushered off the field so I thought you might need a hand.” 

“Thanks, Evie. Cassie, stay with Aunt Evelin while I check on Daddy.” She doesn’t even spare me a glance as I get up and go to assist my husband. 

“Babe? You okay?” This time I kneel down behind him and place a hand on his back. The muscles tense under my hand and then I cringe at the splash of sick that hits the water. 

“Ugh. Yeah, just dizzy as fu--” he’s cut off by another heave. “Jesus. If the room would stop spinning, I would be fine.” 

“You think it’s the meds?” 

“Gotta be. I was okay until I got on the field.” He lays his head down on his arms and I reach up to flush the toilet. I rip a length of toilet paper and clean off his mouth, then tear another to dab the sweat from his face and neck. 

I rub his back slowly while he tries to regulate his breathing. “What can I do?” 

“Drive.” I snort at his mumbled response. 

“Duh. I meant, what do you  _ need _ ?” Declan lifts his head slightly, groans, and lays it back down. 

“Uh...to be horizontal? Not move. Dark room. Probably something to puke in?” 

I lean forward and kiss the back of his neck. “Okay. I’ll ask Evelin to drive the truck back with Cassie and we’ll take your car.” I make to get off the floor, but he stops me. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“Yeah, no. There’s no way I’m riding in the Mustang like this. I might ruin the upholstery.” Seriously? He’s worried about the interior of his car right now? He had better be joking. 

“Hun, your car doesn’t have the car seat. In order for Evie to take Cassie back using your car, we’ll have to remove it from the truck and then reinstall it in your car.” 

He sighs in defeat, “Fine.” 

It takes a while to actually get him to the car, but finally, I get him situated in the passenger seat with a trash bag on his lap. I slide behind the wheel and groan before adjusting the seat, mirrors, and steering wheel column. Sometimes being almost a foot shorter than my husband really sucks. After everything is properly positioned, I ease us out of the lot and onto the street. I’m always a little nervous when driving the Mustang so I take it slower than normal. Too slowly according to the honk of a sports car’s horn as it zips around us. Jackass. 

By the time I pull the car into our garage, Declan has abandoned the bag on the floor in favor of clutching his head. His stomach is pretty empty now anyway, so I’m not too concerned about him ‘ruining’ his beloved car. I ease him out of the car and slowly help him up the steps into the house. He groans and leans against me nearly toppling us both. I’m only five-foot-one, so my husband’s six-foot frame is not easy for me to support. Luckily, his sister comes around the corner just as I’m about to be crushed and takes the other side. The two of us manage to get him to the couch and then Evie carries a hysterical Cassie upstairs. Poor thing is absolutely distraught. I want to go to her, but right now Declan needs me. 

I slip his sweaty jersey over his head and then remove his cleats and place them under the coffee table. I do not want to accidentally step on those. Been there, done that, think I prefer Cassie’s Legos. Declan groans when I lift his head to lay a pillow underneath it, but he sighs when I place a wet washcloth over his eyes. It’ll block out most of the light until he’s able to climb the stairs to our bedroom. There’s no way that Evie and I can get him up there without at least some help from him. I stroke his hair and kiss his temple before placing our house designated ‘sick bucket’ on the floor next to him and a glass of water on the table in front of him. 

Upstairs, I knock softly on my daughter’s bedroom door. There’s a small but firm “No!” followed by Evie telling Cassie to shush and then opening the door. 

“How is he?” 

I shrug and run a hair through my long dark hair. “Okay, for the moment. He swears he’s not in pain, just really dizzy. The doctor said the meds may cause dizziness. And he warned us that increased physical activity can make it worse.” 

I look up at her and attempt a smirk. “Guess chasing after a soccer ball qualifies.” She offers a weak smile and sympathetic eyes in return before moving aside so I can walk up to my daughter’s bed. 

My little girl refuses to look at me and even rolls over so she’s facing the wall. A frown furrows my brow. This can’t still be about Declan’s refusal to let her sit on his lap earlier. I reach out a hand and touch her back, but she flinches away. Okay, that hurt a little. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Cassie huffs out a breath and pulls Max and Queen Emily more snugly to her chest. I’m at a loss. Declan is always better in these situations. I sigh and lay down beside her on the small bed. She tenses up in surprise but doesn’t move. 

“I have to tell you a secret, Cassie. Sometimes...Sometimes mommies and daddies need help.” 

Although she rolls over, I keep my eyes on the ceiling. “Like when we want to make the owie better, but we don’t know how.” A small hand slips carefully into mine. “Sometimes mommies get scared that they can’t kiss it better.” 

“Mommies get scared?” Cassie’s voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, mommies get scared too.” My little girl carefully sets her plush friends aside and then snuggles closer to my body. “But there is something that can make them less scared.” She perks up slightly at this. 

“Like a night light?” I smile, proud of how smart my daughter is. 

“Kind of. But this is something only a momma’s baby boy or baby girl can give them.”

Cassie turns her head towards me in excitement. “ _ I _ can help! I’m  _ your _ baby girl!” 

“That’s right, you are.” I glance down at her. “Do you know what it is?” 

She crawls up on her knees and shakes her head. “No...”

I reach up and brush wild curls from her face while meeting her eyes.  “Do you want to?”

“Yes! I wanna help! Please...momma?” The m-word brings happy tears to my eyes and I smile at her. 

“A hug.” 

Cassie’s eyes widen and then her small body lands on mine. I hold her close and gently kiss her head as she squeezes me tight. “You’re a good hugger.” 

“Do you still feel scared?” 

“No, baby. I don’t feel scared anymore. You made it better.” 

Her hold gradually loosens until she’s cradled against my chest, my fingers combing through her soft red hair. “I wish I could hug Daddy better.” 

“I know, baby. Me too.”

“Momma, why-why did you make Aunt Evie take me away?” My brow creases in confusion before it suddenly hits me. Of course! Back at the stadium, I told her she could help me take care of Declan. 

“Oh, Cassie... Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” I hug her again. “Do you still want to help me make Daddy feel better?” She nods against my shoulder. “Okay, why don’t we go check on him and see how he’s doing?” 

“Okay.” I gather her in my arms and then make my way out of her bedroom and back down to the living room. Declan is still lying there but the washcloth is now on the table and the water glass is half empty. I approach the couch slowly and then sit down on the coffee table. 

“Daddy?” 

“Shh, baby, we have to talk quiet, okay?” She nods and looks at me for direction. I hold her securely on my lap and then take her hand in mine and slowly brush it across his forehead. I gently let go of her hand, she starts to panic. A small nod reassures her. Her tiny hand smooths down his cheek and then back over his dark hair. Cassie glances up to check that she’s doing it right and continues when I smile. 

“Mmmm. That feels nice. I’ve got a pretty good nurse, huh?” I smile down at Declan when he opens his eyes and turns his head to kiss Cassie’s hand. 

“I helped you feel better?” I can hear the desperation in her voice. All she wants is for her Daddy to tell her she did well. 

“You did. You did a really good job, sweetheart.” He eases himself onto his side and then chuckles softly when our daughter places a kiss on his nose. She turns back to me with a big smile on her face. 

“Did you hear, momma? Daddy said I did a good job!” 

“I heard that. Do you wanna help some more?” She enthusiastically nods and her curls bounce against her shoulders. “Okay, we’re gonna help Daddy get upstairs. Can you grab the washcloth and the glass of water off the table, please?” She grabs the damp cloth and then carefully grasps the glass in both hands. “Do you have a hold of it?” She slowly nods. “Okay. I want you to head upstairs to Momma and Daddy’s bedroom. But be really careful, okay? She nods a third time then slowly turns and baby steps her way through the doorway and to the stairs. I look down at my husband. 

“Okay, babe. You ready?” 

Declan grimaces and mumbles, “Sure.” 

I ease him up into a sitting position and then after a few moments help him stand. He sways, we pause. 

He takes a few deep breaths and then speaks, “Okay, let’s go.” 

We mimic our daughter’s pace as we make our way over to the staircase. I can see her waiting at the top and smile when she looks down at us. 

“Go on, sweetheart. We’ll be right there.”

I glance to my left and see Declan’s face pale. “You okay, babe?” 

“Yeah...just, next time we buy a house, let’s not pick one with two floors.” I chuckle and readjust the arm I have wrapped around his waist. 

“C’ mon. One step at a time. If you need a breather, we can stop.” He takes a deep breath and raises his foot to the first step. It’s slow going and we have to stop about three-quarters of the way up so he can sit down for a minute, but eventually, we make it to the top and then down the hall to our bedroom. Cassie is sitting on the bed waiting for us, the glass of water on the nightstand and the washcloth lying next to her creating a wet spot on our duvet. Oh well, it’ll dry... 

By the time I get Declan seated on the edge of the bed, he’s panting and his face is grey. I reach under the nightstand to grab the small trash can. 

“Here.” 

I set it in my husband’s lap before turning towards our daughter, “Cassie, don’t look, okay?” She turns away just as Declan’s body jerks under my hand and water splashes the bottom of the empty trash can. I rub his back with one hand while helping hold the bin stead with the other. His head rests on the rim before he coughs and heaves again. I turn to check on Cassie and find her right in front of me on Declan’s other side. She watches my hand move in circles and then she begins rubbing his back as well. He lets out a sickly moan and I open my mouth to comfort him but Cassie beats me to it. 

“It’s okay, Daddy. You’ll feel better after you throw up.” 

My heart feels like it is going to burst from the pride I feel for our little girl right now. Declan is too busy being sick to respond, but I remove my hand from his back and lay it gently against her cheek. She looks up at me and I give her a watery smile. 

The only thing in Declan’s stomach is the water he drank, so it isn’t long before he’s empty. 

“You think you’re done?” 

He coughs roughly, then answers, “Ugh, yeah.” My husband relinquishes his hold on the trash can and I set it on the floor. He looks at me with bloodshot eyes.

”Just wanna sleep.” 

“Okay, babe. Why don’t you lie down while I take care of this--” I gesture to the bin on the floor, “-- and then I’ll help you undress and get in bed.” He nods. 

Cassie crawls out of the way while Declan slowly relaxes into a horizontal position then she sits beside him and strokes his hair. As I walk into the bathroom and empty the trash can’s contents into the toilet bowl I make a mental note to buy a Polaroid camera so I can capture adorable moments like that in the future. 

With the clean can back in its place, I walk over to the dresser and pull out a pair of boxers and my husband’s favorite plaid pajama bottoms. Then I grab a t-shirt from the closet and carry the stack of clothes over to the bed. He’s already snoring softly. I think I’ll put my little nurse to bed before trying to help him get ready. Cassie’s curled up next to him with a small hand still lying in his hair. She mumbles slightly when I slide my arms underneath her but doesn’t wake. I carry her back to her own room and change her into a cute CareBears pajama set before tucking her in. I slide Queen Emily next to her and she curls her arms around her best friend. Leaning down, I softly kiss her and then turn on the night light. With the door shut almost all the way, I walk back down the hall to my husband. 

Declan is still out when I return so I slide his shirt up and then maneuver his arms one-by-one to get the garment up and over his head. Now that he’s topless, I use the silk duvet cover to my advantage. Standing at the end of our bed, I grab his ankles and tug. He slides down about six inches. He grunts in his sleep, but now I can manage to lift his arms and put the dry t-shirt on him. I pause to wipe the sweat from my brow and catch my breath. This is hard work. Unfortunately, no matter how much I lift, pull, push, or tug, I cannot get his bottom half in a position to remove his shorts. Dammit. 

“Babe? I need you to wake up for me.” Nothing. I tap his cheek a few times. “C’ mon…”  Finally, my husband opens one eye and frowns up at me. “Hun, what are you doin’?” 

I deflate with a sigh and hold up the remaining articles of clothing. 

“Why are you holding my underwear?” I shake my head and glare at him. Urgh. I’m tired too, you know. Today has been rough and all I want is to go to bed. 

“Can you please either lift your ass so I can remove your shorts or sit up?” 

He rubs his eyes with his fist and then reaches for the bedpost. It takes a few tries for him to actually grab it, but then he sits on the edge of the bed and helps me remove his sweaty shorts and underwear. The man actually blushes whilst sitting naked in front of me. Like I haven’t seen it before. Heh. I then help him get his feet into the leg holes of his underwear and pull them up to his thighs. From there, he grabs the waistband and lifts his ass up to pull them into place, totally ignores the pants I hold out and lies back down. Oh, for the love of…

This time when I nudge Declan he emits a low growl.  _ Excuse me _ ? I  _ know _ he didn’t just  _ growl _ at me! Our five-year-old went to bed easier than him! I smack him lightly on the arm and glare at him when his eyes shoot open. 

“Ow!” 

“Get back up.” 

“What? Why? I just want to sleep, hon. I don’t need the stupid pants.” He actually attempts to close his eyes again, but I land another hit to his arm. 

“Ow! Will you stop that?” 

“ _ Get _ .  _ Up _ .” It’s late and I’m exhausted after bouncing between him and Cassie all day. My husband is officially pushing my last button and if he doesn’t move in the next three seconds... 

“Fine!” 

Declan tries to be a smartass and sit up really fast, but the effect is ruined when he has to lean against the bedpost and place a hand over his eyes. I don’t even want to chance him passing out, so I make quick work of pulling the duvet off the bed and folding the sheets back. I haphazardly toss the fancy pillows off the bed and then gently grab his arm to help him lie back down. He sighs as soon as his back rests on the mattress. Finally! Stubborn ass. 

I pull the covers up to his waist. “Do you need anything else?” 

“Mmm. No, I’m good.” I start to turn away but Declan reaches out and grabs my hand. “Actually, yes.” I narrow my eyes and seriously consider bludgeoning him to death with the bedside lamp. He ignores the murderous look in my brown eyes and continues, “My lovely wife in bed next to me.” My anger whooshes out in a gust of air. Awww. He’s so sweet. 

“I’m going to. I just need to get ready first.” Declan nods before closing his eyes. I quickly work through my bedtime routine: brush my teeth, use the potty, wash my hands, wash my face, apply moisturizer, change into my pajamas, plug my phone into the charger, and then take my nighttime medications. Finally, after what seems like a never-ending day, I crawl under the covers and fall asleep in my husband’s arms, our daughter dreaming down the hall. 


End file.
